Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Today’s
guest is young adult author Allie Burton to tell us a bit about herself and her novel Soul Slam.

Allie will be giving
away a $50 Amazon (or BN) gift card to a lucky commenter (who uses the form
below). If you’d like to increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit other tour stops and enter there, too!

Bio:

Allie
didn’t realize having so many jobs would become great research material for the
stories she writes. She has been everything from a fitting room attendant to a
bike police officer to a professional mascot escort. She has lived on three
continents and in four states and has studied art, fashion design, marine
biology, and advertising.

When
her kids asked, “when are you going to write a story we can read?” she switched
from adult novels to Young Adult and Middle Grade and hasn’t looked back.

Allie
is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators,
Romance Writers of America including the Young Adult, Dallas Area Romance
Writers and Heart of the Rockies chapters. She is also a member of Rocky
Mountain Fiction Writers. Currently, she lives in Colorado with her husband and
two children.

Welcome,
Allie. Please tell us about your current release:

A sixteen-year-old on her first heist to steal an ancient Egyptian
amulet inadvertently receives the soul of King Tut…and the deadly curse that
comes with it.

And Olivia is not alone at the museum.

A member of a secret Society, Xander believes it is his place to
inherit King Tut’s soul and justly rule. He knows nothing about the society’s
evil plan to control the world or the curse. Now, he must deal with the female
imposter who stole the amulet.

Xander convinces Olivia they must form a temporary partnership.
The two teens develop a connection, and together they must figure out how to
end the curse before it turns deadly. On the run, unable to touch because of
the curse, and dealing with a male soul inside her female body, Olivia must
learn to trust Xander.

As the mystery surrounding the amulet unfolds, Olivia and Xander
start to fall for each other. But is love enough to save them and the world
from destruction?

Excerpt:

(from Chapter Twenty-Seven)

My spot of defiance hadn’t stopped
him. My elation plummeted like my spit. X now had the final ingredient.

Smoke rose from the cup. Colors
swirled, mixing and combining like a wacky rainbow. My gaze followed the motion
unwillingly entranced. I couldn’t take my gaze off of this creation. The
contents glowed with a strange aura.

A light flashed sending a bolt of
lightning through the room. I flinched from the heat.

The goons’ hold loosened. X watched
with an awed expression on his face.

A sphere formed in the cup. Colors
of red and blue and yellow shaped the orb. The colors flamed and burned into a
bright yellow. The shiny ball rose on a layer of smoke like the sun on a cloudy
day.

I’d never seen anything so
fantastical. I held my breath as the orb rose above the alabaster cup and
floated like a balloon.

X stepped toward the globe. “Did you
know glass was first developed around the time of King Tut’s reign?” He angled
his head examining the glass globe of sun. “The golden glass will act like a
controller.”

“You can’t control a king.” Or a
pharaoh. Or me.

“While I was promised to host King
Tut, the conditions weren’t right the year I turned sixteen.” X’s voice grew
bitter. His eyebrows came together in a straight line mourning the loss of his
own power. “The Society didn’t even read the chant, already knowing through
advances in science that an eclipse would not happen on the summer solstice of
that year. I became a regular person, just another man in the Society.”

Having the power had been cool, but
not if I couldn’t control it. Not if I couldn’t touch the people I loved.
Xander’s name whispered through my chest.

“I was promised the soul and the
power but never told about the burn out until later.” X’s voice rose higher,
angrier. “The Society betrayed me, betrayed every Xander throughout the
centuries.”

“Then why are you doing this to me?”

Is your life anything
like it was two years ago?

Yes.
I still have to reach my word count every day. Now there’s just more
interruptions because of marketing tasks.

Have you ever had an
imaginary friend?

I’ve had an entire group of imaginary friends.
In a way, writing is like having a cast of characters in your head who want to
tell their story.

Do you have any
phobias?

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia-the
fear of long words. Just typing it made me shiver.

Rebecca
lives with her husband in the beautiful, misty mountains of East Tennessee,
where the people are charming, soulful, and just a little bit crazy. She's been
everything from a tax collector to a stay-at-home mom to a house painter to a
professional actress and director. When she's not churning out sensual romantic
mysteries with snappy dialogue and happy endings, she likes to travel, go to
the Outer Banks for her ocean fix, watch old movies, hang out at the local pub,
and make her day complete by correctly answering the Final Jeopardy! question.

Please tell us a
little bit about A Shadow on the Ground.

Morgan Maguire is afraid to believe in second chances. The family
orchard is failing, her twin brother is being framed for murder, and the sharks
are circling. The tough exterior she's spent years hiding behind is beginning
to crumble, just as the man who shattered her heart is back in her life. Gage
Kirkland is as compelling and magnetic as ever, and he's offering the kind of
help she may not be able to refuse. But can she trust him?

To finance his troubled son's therapy, Gage, a former
investigator, takes one last job--recovering a stolen Civil War artifact.
Unfortunately, it's in the possession of the woman he left behind, the woman
who's haunted his dreams ever since. The electricity between them still crackles,
but unless he helps exonerate her brother and finds a way to confess his true
reason for returning, how will he ever recover Morgan's heart?

Do you like kissing
in public?

No.
But I do feel an inexplicable pang of jealousy watching others do it. Once I
was crossing the street in Manhattan and saw a couple stop in the middle of
traffic, wrap their arms around each other, and kiss passionately, like there
was no tomorrow. It was wildly romantic.

What is the sweetest thing someone has
done for you?

I
had surgery last year, and even though I’m pretty self-sufficient, my husband
insisted on staying with me in the hospital the night before. I only had a
small window of opportunity to eat before they cut me off from food, and the
hospital cafeteria was closed. I knew I wouldn’t get real food for at least
four days and asked if he would get me something from the vending machine. He
went downstairs and found a little Starbucks tucked away beside the hospitality
shop. He brought me a sampling of all those wonderful pastries that I always
drool over, and deny myself, while standing in line waiting for my non-fat
sugar-free decaf cappuccino. That night, we had a picnic on my hospital bed:
apple fritters, banana walnut bread, cheese Danish, blueberry scones, chocolate
croissants, and blueberry muffins. It was one of the best (and sweetest) meals
I’ve ever had.

What kind of music do
you like?

Smooth
jazz and movie soundtracks for writing, old standards (Ella Fitzgerald, Frank
Sinatra, Dusty Springfield, etc.) for cooking, soft rock for cleaning house,
and adult alternative for hanging out. When I’m driving, I keep punching the
radio station buttons until I find a song I know all the words to.

What do you do in
your free time?

I
like to watch movies, old or new, especially with my seven-year-old
step-grandson. We are kindred spirits where movies are concerned, and I take
him to see everything from The Croods
to Monsters University to Turbo. I also love to read, play the
weekly trivia game at the local pub, go to dinner, hang out with friends, and
gather in the kitchen with my two sons and daughter-in-law for a gabfest and
some serious wine tasting. I also love to travel the world, and I would
recommend that to anyone who can make it happen. Traveling changed my life. It
may shrink your pocketbook, but it expands your mind and heart like nothing
else can.

What is one thing we
would be surprised to learn about you?

That
I have directed or acted in over 120 plays and musicals.

Excerpt from A Shadow
on the Ground:

Gage grinned, making Morgan’s heart
beat in slow, rolling thuds. “I'm going to make some calls about finding Sean
representation. If he goes up against a murder charge, he'll need the best
lawyer we can find.”

“We?”

“We.”

He held her gaze while a current of
electricity sliced a path through the center of her abdomen.

“I didn't want to leave you alone
last night,” he said.

“I was fine.”

“Well, I wasn't.”

“Oh, come on. A big, tough,
adrenaline junkie PI like you?”

“Not so tough when the bullets are
flying.”

Memories of the night before slammed
into her brain—the sound of gunshots cracking the air, Gage pushing her off the
flagstone walk, lying stone still beside him in the wet grass with a broken
rhododendron stob biting into her neck. If she closed her eyes, she could still
feel his breath crashing across her shoulder, the pulse at the base of his throat
flicking against her cheek. How long had it been since she’d touched a man? Or
been wrapped like his most cherished possession in the strong, shielding warmth
of his arms? Had she ever felt so safe? Would she ever feel that safe again?

Maybe she should hold on to the
memory. Bury it deep. Then, when she needed comfort, she could take it out and
replay it over and over in her head to drive the unbearable loneliness away.
Until something that felt like contentment trickled through her bloodstream, like
a double shot of apple brandy on a cold, wintry night.

A shadow fell over the table.

She lifted her eyes and gasped
softly. The last thing she expected to see were the pale, twisted, angry eyes
of Lawrence Finch.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

WHEN?Sunday, December 29, 2013Eastern USA Time.....7-9 PMNot sure what time that is wherever in the world you are? http://www.worldtimeserver.comWHERE?The Writers Chatroom at: http://www.writerschatroom.com/Enter.htmScroll down to the Java box. It may take a moment to load. Type in the name you wish to be known by, and click Sign In. No password needed.Please note: The chatroom is only open for regularly scheduled chats.

Friday, December 27, 2013

Reviewed
by: Lisa Haselton (I received an ARC of the book in exchange for my review)

Mid-40’s,
widowed, Morgan Iverson drives her old, run-down car from Sioux Falls, South
Dakota to Golden Springs, Colorado to watch her family’s Rock of Ages store for
her brother and sister-in-law. They say it’s only a 2-week mission trip, but as
soon as Morgan arrives they toss her the keys and tell her it’s a permanent
getaway.

Morgan,
the protagonist, is stressed enough with her new ownership status, but then the
two donkeys, Adelaide and Houdini escape through an open gate, so she and one
of the part-time employees go off after the animals. Morgan isn’t dressed for
walking mountain trails in January and is even more unprepared for a dead body
in her path. With no cell service, Morgan has to leave the young woman’s body
to find higher ground. When help eventually arrives and Morgan leads the party
to the spot on the trail, the body is gone. Almost before Morgan arrives back
home, the town’s gossip is making the rounds. By the time Morgan actually leaves
the shop and goes into town, townfolks know who she is, and what she witnessed.

By
constantly upping what can go wrong in the protagonist’s life, the author kept
me turning the pages. I didn’t feel an urgency to keep reading, but more of a
desire to find out what came next. The author didn't disappoint. I totally enjoyed how
the author wove her experience with Colorado’s landscape, donkeys, and old
rocks into this fun amateur sleuth mystery. I’d love to read more about Houdini
and Adelaide, as they were quite funny characters themselves and were quite
involved in everything that was happening. The ending fit the story and wasn't what I expected. Very well written with a fresh voice.

I found the details about community
5Ks intriguing, as I started participating in races this year. The details
were spot-on and immersed me more into the story.

The unique characters made me feel at home and I’d love to stop in “Bibi’s” for some fresh bread.

This is
Catherine’s first novel in her new Rock Shop Mystery series. She’s had short
fiction published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine.

Stone Cold Dead is entertaining to
read. I enjoyed the mix of western scenery, small town life, adventures of a
newbie to 5K run/walks, and the donkey antics, among other ‘gems’ in the story.
It’s a great read for fans of amateur sleuths. I also enjoyed that I finished
reading it during a snow storm in December and was grateful the storm wasn’t
like the one at the book’s climax. I think this would be a fun book for a book group.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Today's guest is Colonel Ron Standerfer, United States Air Force (Retired). He's written an aviation techno-thriller titled, The Eagle’s Last Flight, and is currently on tour with the novel.

During his tour, Ron will be giving away a battery-operated helicopter to a luck (US/Canada only) commenter. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase you chances of winning, feel free to visit other tour stops and enter there, too!

Bio:

Ron Standerfer is a novelist,
freelance writer, book reviewer, and photographer whose articles have appeared
in numerous news publications including online editions of the Chicago Tribune,
USA Today, and the Honolulu Star Advertiser. He is a member of the
International Travel Writers & Photographers Alliance (ITWPA) and American
Writers & Artists Inc (AWAI). He is a retired Air Force fighter pilot who
flew 237 combat tours in Vietnam War. His novel, The Eagle’s Last Flightchronicles the life of an Air Force fighter pilot during The Cold War
and Vietnam years. He also publishes an online magazine, The Pelican Journal.

Welcome, Ron. Please tell us about The Eagle’s Last Flight.

Skip O’Neill’s first assignment as a young lieutenant places him among
hard drinking World War II and Korean War era fighter pilots who quickly teach
him their ways. During the Cold War and Vietnam War, he proves to be a skillful
and courageous pilot who faces dangers of all kinds with equanimity. But the
greatest—and most deadly danger—materializes years after he volunteers to be an
observer at an atomic test site.

The Eagle’s Last
Flight
is a journey through a nearly forgotten era when Cold War veterans were placed
in harm’s way by our government and routinely lost their lives due to the
carelessness and mismanagement of their leaders. Given the current
controversies over adequate protection for our troops deployed in the Middle
East, it is likely that readers who take that journey will learn a lot about
how it used to be, but conclude that nothing much has changed. And that is a
lesson well worth noting.

What inspired you to write this book?

In
1998, my wife and I moved to Manhattan’s Upper West Side. It was a strange
thing to do for a guy raised in the Midwest, but it suited my wife just fine.
She was a big city girl from Warsaw, Poland and a lover of the arts as well. As
soon as we unpacked, she went back to work, leaving me to cope with the Big
Apple alone. Big mistake! I had way too much time on my hands. One of my
favorite pastimes those days was hanging out at a local bar and restaurant on
Columbus Avenue frequented by musicians from the philharmonic, opera singers,
TV camera men, and stage hands at the Met—and I became the resident war story
teller. Everyone seemed to like my stories and suggested I should write a book
someday.

One
afternoon after a particularly long lunch, I weaved my way home, struggled to
unlock the apartment door with unfocused eyes, opened the door, and found my
wife waiting for me. She had left work early. “You have to get a life,” she
said, “or you’re going to become an alcoholic.” She was right. The next day, I
decided to be a writer and write a book. It was cheaper than being an alcoholic
and a whole lot healthier.

Excerpt from The Eagle’s Last Flight:

Prologue

Republic of Vietnam 1969

Four F-100 Super Saber jet fighters, looking sleek
and mean, circled the target like birds of prey impatient for the kill. Below
them, the Mekong River lay steaming in the hot, humid air, surrounded by lush,
green jungle, and red mud from the monsoon rains. Water-filled bomb craters
gleamed dully in the late afternoon sun. Meanwhile, the forward air controller,
or FAC, was scooting across the treetops in a small, propeller-driven aircraft,
coordinating the final details of the strike.

The fighters had been airborne for over an hour,
and Skip’s flying suit was drenched in sweat. He was hot, uncomfortable, and
impatient. Come on, come on, he thought, let’s get on with it. Rain showers are
moving in, and we won’t be able to see the ground much longer.

“Icon Flight, Banjo Two-One is rolling in for the
marking pass,” the FAC said.
Skip saw an orange flash as the marking rocket left the FAC’s aircraft,
followed by a burst of white smoke on the ground that rose in a tall, straight
column.
“Icon Lead, that’s a good mark. Hit my smoke.”

“Roger, Icon Lead’s in. Got the smoke in sight,” he
responded.

“Cleared to drop, Lead.”

Skip rolled the aircraft onto its back, and then
pulled the nose through the horizon before rolling upright and into a steep
dive. Things were happening fast, as the airspeed increased, and the altimeter
unwound rapidly. When the target appeared in the windscreen, he began tracking
it with his gun sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see bright muzzle
flashes from a nearby tree line; then red tracers began streaming across the
nose of his aircraft. Don’t look at them, he thought. Keep your eyes on the
target. Steady now. It’ll be over in a second.

An instant later, two 750-pound bombs were sent
hurtling toward the ground. Trying to avoid the ground fire, he rolled sharply
to the left as he pulled out, and then back to the right. In the rear view
mirror, he could see the two bombs explode in a boiling column of mud and
debris.

“Good bombs, Icon Lead. Put yours in the same
place, Icon Two.”

Suddenly, Skip’s aircraft began to vibrate and
shake, and a series of warning lights came on in the cockpit, one after
another.

“Lead, you’re trailing smoke,” Icon Two called out.

“Not to worry. I’ve…uh…got a problem.”

The aircraft was becoming harder to control as the
vibrations increased. Now the flashing, red fire-warning light was on. Okay. Be
cool. You gotta punch out. No big deal. Get more altitude…that’s the first thing.
“Lead, you’re on fire. The whole ass-end of the aircraft is on fire. Bail out!”
Icon Two’s voice was tense and demanding. “Roger that. I have to climb first
and head toward the water.”

The cockpit was unbearingly hot and filled with
smoke. He could hardly keep the wings level. It’s time to go, pal. You’ve done
this before. Raise the ejection seat handles, and the canopy goes. Squeeze the
trigger, and you go. It’s a piece of cake. Holding the control stick steady
with one hand, he reached down and raised the ejection seat handle, bracing for
the explosion and rush of air as the canopy left the aircraft.

Nothing happened.

No problem. Eject through the canopy. It’s been
done before.

Carefully, he squeezed the exposed trigger in the
handle, once again bracing himself for the shock.

“Lead, I repeat. You are on fire. Get out of the
fucking bird, now!” Icon Two shouted.

“Roger. I…uh…can’t. The ejection seat…it won’t…oh
shit!”

The control stick went slack. The flight controls
were gone. Slowly, the aircraft rolled inverted like a wounded beast. Suspended
upside down, looking at the jungle below, he knew it was over. “Bail out! Bail
out!” Icon Two shouted one last time. Seconds later, the twilight sky was lit
by a bright, orange explosion that disintegrated into flaming shards of silver
aluminum drifting to the ground.

“Too late…” Icon Two said, in a flat voice, filled
with resignation.

What exciting story are you working on
next?

In the mid-1980s
I travelled regularly to Lima, Peru on business. It was a dangerous place to be
for a foreigner in those days. The economy was in bad shape, street crimes like
armed robbery were common, and business men like me were considered prime
targets for kidnapping by gangs like the “Shining Path”. My book chronicles a
series of visits in Lima that culminated in a situation during which I was
absolutely certain that I was about to die. It was a scary experience to say
the least! The working title for the book is “Shining Path to Nowhere.”

When did you first consider yourself a
writer?

I have
always considered myself a storyteller rather than a writer. When anyone tells
me that they enjoy listening or reading my stories, that’s good enough for me. I’ll
leave the folks that teach English Lit 101 or write book reviews for the New
York Times to decided who is a good writer and who isn’t.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's
your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find
time to write?

I have been
retired from the United States Air Force and the aerospace industry for quite
some time; hence, I am blessed with the time and resources to devote to my two
main passions, writing and publishing the works of unknown or undiscovered
writers. I try to allot four hours to each five days a week. The rest of the
time I devote to my family and to my hobby which is photography.

What would you say is your interesting
writing quirk?

I wouldn’t
call this interesting, much less a quirk, but I do all of my writing in my head.
When a paragraph or even a chapter looks just right to me in my mind,
then---and only then---do I sit down at the word processor.

As a child, what did you want to be
when you grew up?

A military
pilot. No big surprise there.

Anything additional you want to share
with the readers?

Yes. The Eagle’s Last Flight is not a typical
techno-thriller about military aviation and war—far from it. Inside its covers
are at least three story lines of interest to men and women, young and old
alike—the story of one man’s struggle against a system whose peers deemed him
not capable of succeeding; an enduring love story between a man and woman who
faced all hardships together; and the story of a government betrayal that
ultimately lead to the demise of a man who had given his all to his country.
Whichever story line interests you, I promise you’ll find the book to be a
great read!

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Marina Raydun is here today. She’s talking about her writing and 2 of her novellas, One Year in Berlin and Foreign Bride.

Welcome, Marina. Please tell us a
little bit about yourself.

I’m an NYC
indie author. I was born and raised in the former USSR (born in Russia, raised
in Belarus). However, having moved to the United States at the age of 11, I
consider this country to be my true home. Skipping 6th grade, I entered
7th in Brooklyn, New York, where I live to this day. I hold a B.A.
in History, as well as a J.D., though I do not currently practice law. I’ve
been writing for myself since I was a teenager but these two novellas are my
first published works of fiction.

Please tell us about your current
release.

This is a
book of two novellas. They differ from each other greatly, in themes and
inspirations. I’ll go over them individually.

One Year in Berlin is a story about a young woman named
Rachael. She is a granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor and finds herself
having to live in Berlin for at least a year because of her husband’s career
opportunity. Even though she believes she is strong enough to not be held back
by her family’s history (along with its long-held fears and prejudices),
Rachael feels herself growing a bit unhinged on German soil; her new life
becomes riddled with nightmares and visions, her past and present get confused.
We watch her go through this year-long ordeal, unsure if she’ll ever find
herself again.

Foreign Bride is a tale of two people from
different countries (and cultures) looking for love. Bobby is a middle-aged man
from London, while Sofiya is a younger woman from Moscow; they find each other
in the context of Russia’s “mail-order bride” industry. Their feelings for each
other seem genuine, despite the rather calculated manner in which they met, and
yet, they can’t seem to relax and enjoy each other’s company. We are privy to
their deepest insecurities and bouts of self-destruction as we watch what such
things can do to a potentially happy couple.

What inspired you to write this book?

One Year in Berlin was in part inspired by my own
nightmares (though, needless to say, I’ve fictionalized them for publication). Unfortunately,
given that I am Jewish and come from Eastern Europe, the subject of World War
II has always hit a bit close to home. I believe that unless we continue to
study and talk about this dark chapter in our history, we cannot truly do our
best to ensure that such atrocities never take place again; nor can there ever
be any forgiveness. Because of this, I really felt it was important to try to
tell a story showing three perspectives that bring little, if any, good—one
that’s stuck in the past, one that’s knee deep in denial, and a third that
refuses to see what the fuss is all about given how many years have passed.

Rachael’s
nightmares can also be read as a metaphor for her feelings towards (or fears
of) her husband. This novella can be read entirely as a relationship piece. How
you’d rather interpret this one is entirely up to the reader; I wrote it dually
on purpose.

Foreign Bride, on the other hand, was inspired by
my fascination with the “mail-order bride” industry. The footing in these types
of relationships is anything but equal—at least one party is out of her/his
comfort zone. Expectations also differ greatly from those one would reasonably anticipate
in a more ordinary setting. Not to say that these relationships are always
doomed to abuse and mistrust. Absolutely not! There are legitimately happy
couples out there who are genuinely grateful to this industry for helping them
find each other. Still, I’ve always wanted to look deeper into this world,
wanting to play around with the various themes involved. One morning, during my
subway commute, I visualized the first chapter and had to write it down. I took
it from there.

Excerpt from One Year in Berlin, Chapter 1:

Darren eyed
his wife with a hint of worry from behind the thick, pseudo-intellectual frames
he used for reading. He put down his copy of The New Yorker and threw his arm around her, pulling her into his
side.

“Relax,
Ascher, whatever it is you are thinking about, odds are—you’re overthinking
it,” he ordered in his effortlessly confident tone as she let out a snort into
his black, fashionably worn-out leather jacket.

Darren was
used to a strong, tough wife and suspected that having to watch her deteriorate
would not be easy.

“Look! It
says I’m German,” she whined cautiously.

Excerpt from Foreign Bride, Chapter 2:

When it was
Bobby’s turn, her heart seemed to stop beating to allow her ears to hear
better.

“London,” he
answered simply.

Sofiya was
used to hearing these men declare with pride that they were from New York but
really being from Albany, or saying that they were from Frankfurt but really
meaning Aachen. Chances of this man being from London were slim, she knew.

I’m working
on a full length novel, aiming for publication late this spring (2014). A
reader of mine once described my stories as those about “relationships with a
twist.” I love that description and find it to be very accurate. This upcoming
novel will sure be a “relationship (or two…or three) with a twist (or two…or
three)” type of work, set against the backdrop of a murder-mystery.

When did you first consider yourself a
writer?

I wrote my
first short story in high school, but it wasn’t until a little later in life
that I realized that I love writing for its own sake; that crafting stories and
characters simply makes me happy. I’ve always been a bit afraid of titles so
I’m not sure when I officially labeled myself a “writer,” but I’ll say sometime
during a sleepless night in college.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's
your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find
time to write?

I am not a
full-time writer. As a mom, my daily routine is fairly busy, but I try to carve
out time to write every single day. I think it is important to do so for the sheer
exercise of it. Even if the piece will not pan out to be a story you’ll ever
publish or even share with a friend, it’s vital to give your brain that
workout. Right now, about two hours a day is all I am able to commit to this
passion but I try to make this time as productive and focused as I possibly
can.

What would you say is your interesting
writing quirk?

I don’t
start with an outline. I always have to write out the first chapter fairly
thoroughly before going back and working out an outline for the entire piece. I
like to try to give my characters as much freedom as possible to tell me where
it is they want to go.

As a child, what did you want to be
when you grew up?

I’ve always
wanted to be a singer (and an actor). Growing up, I never really wanted to play
with “real” toys; instead, I’d play records and act out concerts or musicals
(all in front of imaginary but sold-out arenas, of course). I don’t think those
dreams have ever truly seized to be my ultimate fairytale-type fantasies but
for a brief moment in time, as an adolescent, I also wanted to become a teacher
and a lawyer. I guess I’ve always wanted to create something.

Anything additional you want to share
with the readers?

I would
like to thank them for taking a chance on a new name and for reading my
creations. It means the world!

If I could
give anyone a piece of advice, it’d be this: go after your dreams! Pursue them
aggressively! The longer you wait to pursue them, the harder it’ll become to
eventually make them a reality.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Welcome to today's promo spotlight. Along with the interview and a book excerpt, guest David Evans has a gift card giveaway for you to enter. Use the form below.

Author bio:David Evans is a Toronto-based pain consultant with an interest in all types of chronic, intractable non–cancer pain. An avid fly fisherman, crossword and Sudoko aficianado and global traveler, The Arkansas Connection is David’s first novel, but he is hard at work on a second one!Author links -Website | Goodreads | Amazon

About the Book

Welcome, David. Please tell us a little bit about your book.Frank Munro, manager of the New York Mets, leads a turbulent life trying to win with a team of dysfunctional underachievers. Soon after the Mets lose the final game of the season, Frank finds out his mother has died, and he must return to his hometown of Catsville, Arkansas, to arrange her funeral. His attempt to give her remains a grand send-off results in mayhem, and out of pity his mother’s friend Alice invites him to a "tea party” with three other ladies, where the tea is actually moonshine. Frank gives them a play-by-play of that final game, and manages to survive the evening. He returns to New York to find the Mets’ owner has decided to give him one more chance. Meanwhile, Bobby Sherward, a doctor-turned-right fielder who sustained a concussion from the fly ball and lost the Mets' final season game, decides that his future is in medicine, not baseball. He takes a position at a veteran’s hospital in Arkansas. Upon arrival, he is amazed to find it's within spitting distance of Frank's hometown.
That’s not the only unsettling coincidence Bobby must contend with, for it soon becomes apparent that Broken Arrow Memorial is the medical equivalent of the Mets. Run by a psychotic medical director, the hospital is the home of indifferent or incompetent doctors, electro-convulsed patients, and assorted weird experiments. Bobby soon has enough, but before he leaves town he encounters a remarkable sandlot baseball player named Jonathon Brown. Besides being a phenomenal player, Jonathon is also a mathematical genius who runs a highly successful investment group in the back room of a local diner. Bobby manages to convince Jonathon to try out for the Mets, and his incredible skills both on the field and in finance bring him and the team fame and prosperity. But Jonathon also raises the ire of the brokerage firm losing customers to his sound investment advice. As a result, the company's CEO makes plans to “eliminate” the new competition. Will Jonathon survive his trip to the big league, and complete the Arkansas Connection?

PLEASE NOTE: There are some suggestive scenes and swearing in the book- so it’s not for children.

What
inspired you to write this book?

I work as a pain consultant and have seen
quite a few sports injuries and thought that I would like to write a novel
considering I spend most of my time writing non-fiction. . The baseball parts involving the Mets are based on the
fact that they really at one time were the laughing stock of the sport. The
financial part is based on my innate distrust of bankers and stock brokers. The
medical part, is based on my experiences somewhat exaggerated.

Excerpt from The Arkansas Connection:

The baseball
season ended dramatically for Frank Munro, when he was ejected in the eighth
inning of the final game of the regular schedule for saying unkind things about
the first base umpire. At precisely the same time, Frank’s elderly mother, who
happened to be watching the game in her home in Catsville, Arkansas, just as
dramatically dropped dead from a heart attack in front of her television set.

Two days
later Frank was airborne, heading south to attend his mother’s funeral. Frank
hated flying, and the captain’s announcement that they would be running into a
little turbulence only made him more nervous and depressed. His dark mood was
not so much brought on by his mother’s death, which in many ways was a godsend,
but by the fact that her funeral merely postponed his annual show-and-tell
luncheon meeting with the team’s owner, Steve Conroy. Frank had been manager of
the Mets for five years, and inevitably Steve would bring the meeting to an end
by making the same demand: “Frank, give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t
fire you.” And Frank would just as inevitably answer that he didn’t have one.

This year was
even more critical, because the team had managed to pull off one of its worst
seasons since Steve had bought the club ten years previously. To make matters
worse, the final game against the Giants would probably go down as one of the
greatest debacles in the history of baseball.

Frank stared
morosely into what was left of his third Scotch, and pondered the fate that had
led him into managing such a bunch of dysfunctional, psychotic underachievers.
The problem wasn’t that they lacked talent, but that most of their energy
seemed to be directed toward their extracurricular activities – drinking,
self-medicating with dope, beating up their wives and girlfriends, fighting in
bars, and generally whoring around. Baseball just seemed to give them something
to do between all the other stuff.

After landing
in Dallas, Frank took a white-knuckle hedgehopper to Broken Arrow and rented a
car for the last leg of the trip to Catsville. The airplane food and multiple
Scotches had left him with heartburn and a major hangover, but he still felt a
pang of unfamiliar nostalgia as he drove the eight miles down the road to his
hometown. Besides being the home of Potter Plastics, the biggest employer and
polluter in the county, Catsville was also a major trading center for the
vintage moonshine liquor that was distilled in the pine forests surrounding the
town. If you looked carefully as you drove down the winding road into the
valley, you might see wisps of black smoke sneaking through the trees,
indicating that there would soon be new product hitting the market.

For Frank
right now, Catsville was a retreat where he thought he could relax, say a final
good-bye to his mother, and hide for a couple of weeks from the New York media,
which was vicious in its criticism of his handling of the team. Apart from the
usual carping that he should never have been hired in the first place, there
were more serious charges that cast aspersions on his birthright and sexual
proclivities. One caller to a radio talk show, mixing him up with a serial
killer of the same name, suggested he should have his testicles cut off and
stuffed down his throat.

What exciting story are you working on
next?

Actually I’m working on another novel, but
this one will be a little closer to my area of expertise one set in the medical
field. Not sure exactly what is happening with it but I’m interested to see
what I arrive at!

When did you first consider yourself a
writer?

I’ve never
sat down and made any declaration that I’m a writer. People write all the time
whether it’s a simple report for work or articles for journals. In the medical
field your whole life revolves around paperwork of some kind and since part of
that profession is publication in medical journals I just did it. I’ve never
really thought about whether I was a writer or not. I think sometimes that too
much attention is paid to labeling people and not enough to what they are
producing. I am who I am and if that also includes being a writer then that’s
great.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's
your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find
time to write?

No,
I’m a full time doctor (specialty in Anesthesiology) and I work with patients
who have all types of chronic, intractable non-cancer pain. Most people I see
have had pain for many months or years and have often seen many care givers. I
work and treat them through many different means. So I find that writing is a
good way to unwind at the end of the day, and that’s generally when I write.

What would
you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I don’t know that I have one. Unless
a quirk is to sit down and just write. Some people find it difficult to sit
down in front of a blank piece of paper. I’ve never had that problem so maybe
that’s a quirk.

As a child,
what did you want to be when you grew up?

I think I was a typical kid growing up, but back then ( I’m in my 70’s)
you either went to school and then later found your vocation or you ended up
doing basic jobs. I always had a love of learning and helping people so I went
the doctor route. Little did I know how much time you had to devote to your
studies, but it was an area that I’ve always loved.

Anything
additional you want to share with the readers?I think that it’s good to remember that you can achieve what you want to
no matter what age you are. I didn’t think to start writing a novel until I was
in my 70’s and that’s okay. If you want to do it you will. Don’t let other
people make it seem like you are running out of time, you aren’t. It’s even
easier to publish now that you can take advantage of e-book technology, so take
your time and do a good job.

Friday, December 20, 2013

Today is a stop along M.S. Brannon's virtual book tour for her new adult romance novel, Tragic Love.

Bio:

M.S. Brannon was born and raised in the Midwest. She still resides there today with her wonderful husband and son. When she is not writing or reading, M.S. Brannon spends time with her family, watching movies, and discovering new music. She writes romance because she believes love and heartache is the rawest emotion one can experience.

Blurb:

For Drake and Presley, life has handed them more challenges than any one person should ever face in a lifetime. Together, they've survived Presley’s captivity from her deranged uncle, but now they must learn how to live with the events that surrounded her time spent with him, while keeping the details of her rescue a secret.

For Presley Quinn, living the last two years has been practically unbearable, constantly drowning in nightmares put there by a man responsible for the violent imagines continually playing in her mind. She keeps moving forward, but is barely clinging onto the edge when she’s faced with another obstacle from her past that is so unavoidable, so tragic, it threatens to break her apart—herself.

Drake will do anything to protect Presley from ever feeling pain again. His love is irrefutable. He walks side by side with her, vowing he will never let anyone harm her again. However, when an unexpected event turns Presley against everyone she’s ever loved, Drake is faced with trying to save the only woman he’s ever loved or severing the only lifeline she’s ever had—himself.

Excerpt:

There are moments of such significance in your life it doesn’t matter what you do or what someone can say, nothing will eliminate that memory from the deepest recesses of your mind. These moments will always be there, filling up your entire life with so much joy you could combust at any second. Then, there are moments filled with the most earth shattering pain ever in existence when you feel like you’re dying a horrible death. These moments live so closely together in your mind, they are almost intertwined with one another. Moments that are spinning on an axis, carefully balanced on the rim of your sanity.

Not living far from these significant events in one’s life are the feelings attached to them. Feelings that live in the shadows of these particular moments where a person never knew one could experience such emotions until the day that you live through such an instance because they only surface when you fully understand just how life altering the event is. They’re unexplainable. A person is not meant to feel any of these foreign feelings until they’ve experienced that moment first hand. ~Drake Evans, Tragic Love

I'm listed!

Blog Tour Partner - Goddess Fish

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About Me

I'm a NH native and love New England. I love writing about the region, exploring it on foot, on my bicycle, and in my car. There are so many small communities and fun and interesting people in this area, that I could be here a lifetime and not do all it is I want to do. :)

I'm a moderator at The Writer's Chatroom that hosts live chats with guest authors on Sunday nights 7-9PM EST. Join the e-mail list to get notifications of upcoming guests, then stop in and join the conversation!